


Reward

by Setaeru



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Dean, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Top Cain, Twink Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setaeru/pseuds/Setaeru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean delivers a package to Cain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reward

**Author's Note:**

> bc im shameless trash and im disgusting and its 5am and wow that makes this worse
> 
> also speshul thx 2 christy bc her drunk lil soul encouraged my ugly lil soul to finish this trash fic (that lasted for all of 5 mins ofc)
> 
> ok but rly enjoy and forgive me for the mistakes and ugly writing bc im gross like that and cant english
> 
> fyi the beginning is trash (the whole thing is as trashy as me) jk (or am i) ok BYE ENJOY

Dean approached the office door, stomach fluttering nervously. He set the usual mail he delivered on Mr. Ayers’ secretary’s desk, just a few random and unimportant letters sent to Cain Ayers, the CEO of Bumble Enterprises.

He wasn’t nervous delivering that mail, no, that was simple and easy and he didn’t have to stand under the CEO’s hard gaze. He was nervous because he had to deliver a package directly to Mr. Ayers’ and get his signature.

Dean let out a heavy breath, looking around the empty office space and trying to calm down. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like he hadn’t met Mr. Ayers before. _Fuck_ , Dean scratched the back of his neck, panicking.

_Man up, you little shit,_ he thought bitterly. _He’s human and he’s not a bad person._

Dean adjusted the heavy package in his hands, glancing down at his clipboard which sat on top of it. He knocked three times on Mr. Ayers’ heavy oak door, balancing the box on his hip. “Come in,” a deep voice called from within, sounding distracted and somewhat annoyed.

Aw, hell.

Dean gulped and turned the door handle, pushing the door open and keeping his eyes on the floor as he stepped inside. The door automatically started to close behind him, and he panicked for a second, wondering if it was going to slam.

It didn’t.

It slowed considerably and clicked into place properly with barely a noise.

That was cool.

Dean turned and lifted his eyes, staring across the large office to where Mr. Ayers sat typing leisurely behind his cherry oak desk. “Uhm,” Dean shuffled on his feet, gripping the box with two hands and feeling his arms begin to weaken. “Sorry to bother you, sir. I have a package for you. I, uhm, I need your signature for it.”

Mr. Ayers glanced up at him, pausing his typing. “Set it on the floor over there,” he ordered, nodding his head to the couches. He studied Dean from across the room, looking curious and amused. Dean flushed under his gaze and nodded, shuffling his feet again and walking to the sitting area to the right of the door.

He carefully set the box down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he straightened. Dean picked up the clipboard, and pulled his pen from his pocket, walking slowly over to where Mr. Ayers sat. He stood beside his chair and held the clipboard out. “You just have to sign these spots,” Dean said, pointing at the areas he needed the man’s signature.

Mr. Ayers hummed and took the pen, holding the bottom of the clipboard as he signed his name in the spots Dean had pointed to. He then leaned back in his chair, looking up at Dean with the most intense gaze Dean had ever been subjugated to in his entire life. He blushed and looked away again, holding his hand out for the pen.

Mr. Ayers laughed, a rich and deep sound that rumbled from deep within his chest. “You deliver the mail? Is that right?” Mr. Ayers said, twirling the pen in his fingers, elbows resting on his desk chair’s armrests.

“Y-yes, sir,” Dean bit his bottom lip nervously, then let go of it and licked his lips. “Everyday, sir.”

“Everyday? For how long?”

“Uhm... ar-around seven months now, sir.”

“Seven months, everyday. You haven’t missed one day, have you?” Mr. Ayers sounded pleased and it made Dean tingle all over. “That’s very good, boy.”

“Th-tha-thank you, s-sir,” Dean stammered, his face feeling even warmer at the praise, his belly fluttering with happiness. He wanted to lift his eyes and look at Mr. Ayers’ face, know what expression was being directed at him but he was too much of a chicken; scared of those intense blue eyes that threatened to consume him.

“I think you deserve a reward,” Mr. Ayers continued momentarily. Dean couldn’t help but look at him now, eyes wide with shock and lips parted. “You would like that, would you not? A little reward for all your hard work?”

“I-I,” Dean felt his breath catch in his throat. “I su-suppose... sir.”

“What’s your name, boy?” Mr. Ayers asked, pushing his chair back and away from his desk, turning so he faced Dean. Dean lowered his hands to his sides, suddenly realizing they were still held towards the CEO.

“Dean, sir. Dean Winchester.”

“Dean Winchester," Mr. Ayers repeated. "Do you know my name, Dean?” Mr. Ayers continued, leg slowly bouncing, bringing Dean’s attention to his spread legs and the bulge at the crotch of his pants.

“Y-yes, sir. You’re Mr. Cain Ayers,” he said quickly, swallowing thickly and struggling not to stare at Mr. Ayers’ crotch.

“I want you to call me Cain,” the man said, tossing the pen onto his desk. “Can you do that, Dean?”

“Yes, sir, of course,” Dean said unthinkingly, gaze still locked on Cain’s crotch.

“I’m sorry,” Cain crossed his legs at the knee, hands intertwining in his lap. “What was that?”

“Uh,” Dean lifted his eyes, embarrassed. “I-I mean, Cain. Yes, Cain.” He winced ever so slightly at the stern expression suddenly evident on Cain’s face. “I’m sorry... I wasn’t... uhm, wasn’t paying attention.” At least he was being honest; although, judging from the disapproving look in Cain’s eyes, it probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

Cain slowly looked away from his eyes, his blue gaze going down to his nose and then his wet lips, continuing towards his neck and collarbones. It dropped further to the light blue t-shirt snugly covering Dean’s torso and then down to his black shorts that were a little too tight for Dean’s waistline and short for his thighs. His eyes finally dropped to his white ankle socks and simple dark brown boots.

He looked up again, locking eyes with Dean. “Maybe you’re not so good after all, Dean,” Cain drawled, pushing his chair back more and uncrossing his legs, standing up. Dean gulped audibly, feeling incredibly small standing before Cain in his neat charcoal grey suit. Dean whimpered and felt his cock twitch in his tight panties.

Dean inwardly cursed his dick, struggling to not let himself get hard. “I’m- I’m sorry, si-Cain,” he winced. “I-... can be good.”

“Really?” Cain sounded disinterested, turning away and closing his laptop, pushing it to the side. His desk was mostly empty, save for a few pens - now including Dean’s - and the laptop and his cellphone. “Prove it.”

“Pr-prove it?” Dean said nervously. “I don’t... I don’t know how.” Dean looked down at his feet, pulling his clipboard to cover his crotch and waist, holding it with both hands. His shoulders slumped a little and he had a feeling he had already fucked up whatever kind of moment had been happening between himself and Cain. “H-how?”

“How?” Cain hummed and turned sharp eyes to him. “Turn around and bend over and grab your ankles with your hands.” He paused, raising a brow as Dean didn’t move. Dean frowned and licked his lips then nodded.

He shuffled around and slowly bent over, barely holding in a groan as his belt dug into his stomach and his pants pulled tighter over his ass. He set the clipboard down on the floor beside the desk then grabbed his ankles, keeping his knees straight and feeling an unfamiliar burn in his legs. His cock twitched again in his panties, slowly hardening even as Dean tried to stop it from getting erect. He whimpered quietly, pants tightening even further.

Two strong hands grabbed his hips roughly, yanking him back. Dean tensed as his ass pressed against Cain’s crotch, then wiggled his hips slowly, unsure. Cain chuckled and ground his cock against Dean’s ass, rocking his hips slowly.

Dean moaned, legs shaking. He probably would’ve fallen over if not for Cain’s warm hands on his hips, holding him steady and upright. Dean’s cock absolutely ached in his pants, trapped between his legs and against his balls, panties and shorts pressing it back painfully. “Pl-please,” he struggled, breathing heavily.

“Stand up,” Cain nearly growled, stepping back. Dean groaned and shakily pushed himself up, straightening his body. He spun around and gulped at the dark expression on Cain’s face.

“Please,” Dean repeated, whimpering softly. Cain grasped his face with one hand, crowding him back against the desk.

“Please, what, Dean? What do you want?” Cain said lowly, sounding rougher. “Tell me, boy.”

“ _Please_ ,” he whined, pawing at Cain’s pressed suit. Cain hummed and moved his hand from his face to the back of his head, then used his free hand to cup Dean through his shorts. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, bucking desperately and grinding his cock down into Cain’s palm. “P-pants, pants.”

Cain let him go and deftly undid Dean’s belt with one hand, pulling it from the loops and tossing it onto the desk. He yanked Dean’s button up and pulled his zipper down, reaching his hand down his pants and cupping him through his satin-soft panties.

Dean gasped and twitched his hips desperately, mewling softly. He gripped Cain’s blazer, pulling him closer and burying his face in the man’s chest. “What’s this?” Cain whispered, no, _growled_ , into his ear. “Are you wearing panties, baby boy?”

Dean whined at the name, nodding into Cain’s chest. “Y-yes,” he said softly, shyly. “Do- do you like them?”

“I can’t see them,” Cain chuckled, squeezing his cock gently, massaging a few drops of precum out of him. Dean moaned and let go of Cain, reaching shaky hands down to shove his shorts down to his ankles. Cain removed his hand from his cock and crouched, gently removing Dean’s boots and socks and pants.

He set them to the side and looked up at Dean with a wicked smirk. “Are you clean, Dean?” he asked, hands grabbing Dean’s hips and making him sit on the edge of the desk.

“Y-yes,” he blushed. “And, uh, I’ve never, uhm, had sex... via, uh... my ass.”

“Do you finger yourself?” Cain asked, voice husky. Dean bit his lip and nodded. “How often?”

“Ev-every night,” he admitted.

Cain’s wicked smirk became a soft smile. “But are you _clean_ , Dean?” Cain said gently. Dean frowned, wondering for a second what he could mean then... Oh. _Oh_. Fuck. Dean had used the bathroom this morning, but he’d showered thoroughly after and hadn’t used it after that. And it was only a few hours since then, considering it was almost lunch. He nodded down at Cain, earning a grin.

Dean gasped and grabbed the desk as Cain suddenly lifted his knees and set them on his shoulders. Dean was on the very edge of the desk, and if he didn’t hold on tightly, he would probably slip off. Cain shifted closer and placed his mouth over Dean’s cock, sucking at him through the satin blue panties.

Dean hissed and dug his nails into the underside of the desk, spreading his legs a little more and arching his back. He pressed his cock against Cain’s mouth, whimpering as he moved over the length of him. His hot mouth teasing his cock and wetting his panties. “Fuck,” he panted.

“Lay back,” Cain whispered against his cock, moving away from it and kissing and biting at his sensitive inner thighs, his beard scratching and tickling his skin. Dean moaned and dropped back onto the desk, shivering as Cain forced his knees to bend more. Cain placed Dean’s feet on his shoulders, revealing more of his ass.

Dean clenched his cheeks briefly and squirmed, feeling Cain begin to mouth at his cock again. He sighed softly, letting go of the desk with one hand and sliding it into Cain’s long dark hair, full of small streaks of silver, gripping gently.

Cain pulled his panties down his legs, and Dean helped him remove it fully, kicking it to the side. He returned to his position, feet pressing into Cain’s firm shoulders. Cain groaned and wrapped his lips around Dean’s cock, sucking and taking most of him into his mouth.

Dean moaned loudly, trying to fuck up into Cain’s mouth. Cain growled and grabbed his hips, forcing him to keep them placed on the desk as he sucked and licked at his cock. Dean whined and wiggled, tightening his grip on Cain’s hair. “God, yes,” he breathed.

Cain pulled off his cock and sucked on his balls for a moment, then continued down to his perineum and further to his ass cheeks. Dean felt his hands slide down a little more and his thumbs dig into his ass. He gasped as he was spread, his hole exposed to Cain’s heavy stare.

Dean’s toes curled tightly, Cain’s hot breath making his hole flutter. Cain spread him more, still somehow holding him firmly to the desk. Cain suddenly dove forward, tongue licking viciously at Dean’s virgin hole, beard scratching at the sensitive surrounding skin.

Dean cried out, bucking desperately and pressing towards Cain. “Oh, _god._ Y-yes, please, _daddy_ ,” he sobbed, thighs quickly beginning to quiver and cock leaking onto his stomach. Dean tensed slightly when he realized what he just said, but Cain only licked at his hole with more enthusiasm so he relaxed.

“M-more,” Dean mewled and scratched at the desk, nails painfully digging into the wood. Cain growled and let go of his hips, one arm coming up and pressing them down while his other arm lowered and the fingers attached to it began to prod alongside his tongue.

Dean whined as one of Cain’s fingers pressed against his wet hole, slipping a couple inches inside his still somewhat loose hole. Dean clenched tightly around his finger, letting out a heavy breath and forcing himself to relax. “Please, daddy, more,” he croaked, the backs of his eyes stinging.

“Greedy,” Cain moaned, pulling his finger out of him and moving his hand away. He pressed his tongue against Dean’s hole, pressing inside and flicking the tip. Dean trembled and groaned heavily. A drawer opened and things moved around, then the drawer shut. There was an odd little click and squirt and then Cain was pulling his face away and pressing his finger into his hole again.

Dean hissed and sat up a little, bracing himself with his free hand and looking down between his legs. Cain stared right back at him, lips shiny with spit and eyes almost... wild. Dean moaned at the sight, forcing himself to let go of Cain’s hair and sit up just a little more so he could see the finger slowly disappearing into his ass.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes widening. It felt so different to have another person’s finger in his ass, but it felt so much better. Dean dropped back onto the desk again, unable to look at Cain.

Cain pushed his finger deeper into his ass, twisting it slowly and feeling around, wiggling it and stretching him. Dean whined softly, squeezing his eyes shut as a second finger, as slick with - what he guessed was - lube as the first finger, began to rub against his rim.

“Please, daddy,” he gasped, voice trembling as much as his body. “Need, need it.” He tensed up and opened his eyes as the first finger slid out and the second pressed beside it gently. Both of Cain’s fingers pushed into his hole, slow and steady, working in and out, stretching him slowly, until Dean could take them all the way in.

Dean let out a shuddering breath and slumped back onto the desk, relaxing as his fingers twisted inside of his hole, teasing his sensitive skin. Dean’s eyes rolled back and his head pressed into the desk. Cain twisted his fingers just right and pressed right up against his prostate. Dean’s hips jerked unsteadily and he cried out, feet slipping off of Cain’s shoulders and down his back.

“Daddy,” he rasped desperately, Cain’s finger pads relentlessly pressing against his prostate, his other arm forcing Dean’s hips to remain on the desk. “ _Daddy_ ,” he sobbed, cock twitching almost violently beside Cain’s arm just before he came.

Dean melted into the desk, moaning continuously as he rode out his orgasm. He was barely aware of a third finger pressing in alongside the first two but he didn’t really feel it as he was stretched. Dean slowly came back to himself, woozy and confused as he was lifted and moved.

He stood on his feet, bending over the desk and arching his back, pressing his wet ass against Cain’s slacks. Cain moaned softly, rocking his hips slowly, carefully. Dean didn’t protest as his arms were pulled behind his back and tied with something soft.

Dean breathed loudly in the large room, the sound echoing almost. His breath caught in his throat as Cain slowly lowered his zipper, shuffling around a little. Dean tensed as he felt Cain’s cock pressed against his crack, rubbing slowly along it, teasing his loose hole.

Dean bit his lip and glanced back at Cain, feeling his cock twitch at the dark, lusty and wanting gaze that greeted him. “Daddy,” he whispered, pressing back against Cain’s thick cock. Cain _snarled_ and grabbed the base of his dick, rubbing the tip over Dean’s hole and then pressing in.

Dean choked on a breath and held it, eyes widening as Cain pushed in easily, sinking into his warm, tight heat without a problem. Dean’s legs gave out and his hips pressed painfully into the desk, his wrists fruitlessly tugging at the soft fabric binding them together.

Dean let out a shuddering breath as Cain’s zipper pressed tightly against his ass, cock buried all the way in. Dean looked back at Cain one last time, realizing he was still fully clothed except for his missing red tie. Dean suddenly realized what was binding his wrists too.

“Fuck, daddy,” he whimpered, cock throbbing and leaking. Cain was still fully clothed minus his tie and Dean was as naked as the day he was born. “F-fuck me,” he turned his head and pressed his forehead to the oak desk, squeezing his eyes shut. “God, please. Fuck me, daddy, fuck me so good. Wanna feel it for a week. Dammit, _please_.”

Cain didn’t say one fucking word in reply, but he did pull out all the way to the tip and slam right back into Dean’s ass. Dean wailed, tears blurring his gaze; he tugged hard at the tie and arched his back, hips aching from how they were slammed roughly into the desk.

Cain did it again. Pulling out to the tip and ramming back in with a seriously concerning amount of strength. Dean stammered out weak pleas of ‘faster’ and ‘harder’ and ‘more,’ clumsily trying to fuck back against Cain as he pounded his ass, unrelenting and precise.

“C-com-me, cl-clo-s-se,” he barely managed to stammer out. “P-plea- f-fuck-k. C-cl-clos-s-se.”

“Close, hmm?” Cain finally spoke something other than muttered curses. Cain slowed down, pressing into Dean and not moving. He leaned down, pressing his chest firmly onto Dean’s back. “Then why don’t you just come if you’re so close?” He taunted, lips over Dean’s ear, beard tickling him.

“N-no, c-can-can’t,” Dean sobbed, clenching around Cain weakly and trying to move his hips. “Please. Fu-fuck me,” he rasped, throat raw from crying out and moaning. “N-need you, dah-daddy.”

“Why don’t you be a good little boy,” Cain began; slowly, teasingly rocking his hips. “And ask for permission?” Cain fucked in and out of him slowly, gently.

Dean took a second to breathe. “Please, daddy,” he groaned, clearing his throat. “Please, can I- can I come? Need to, daddy, please.”

“Mm, such a good little boy,” Cain cooed into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Come for me, baby boy, come on.” Dean wasn’t prepared for Cain to suddenly pull away from his back and start pounding his ass again, this time, aiming for his prostate with each thrust.

Dean screamed involuntarily, tensing up and clenching tightly around Cain. He came hard, come shooting out the tip of his cock and down the side of the desk; body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm, mind blank as a wave of powerful pleasure took over him completely.

Dean was just barely aware of Cain picking him up and laying him down on one of the couches, covering his bare body with a blanket and running a hand through his hair. Dean trembled, eyes wet with tears. “Daddy,” he barely managed to say, reaching for Cain.

“I’m right here,” Cain murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “It’s okay, sweet boy. You were so good. Thank you. Sleep now, rest; for me.”

Dean nodded and curled up on the cool couch, clutching at Cain’s hand and blazer and falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thx 4 reading hope u enjoyed pls comment and kudo so i can feel good abt myslf and my bad writing and bc i love them thank you <3 <3 <3
> 
> btw feel free to think abt the package for forever and ever and ever and wonder what was in it bc im not telling :D im mean i know im not sry


End file.
